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[Oct. 6th, 2006|02:31 am] |
| [ | music |
| | The Future Sound of London | ] |
Dear readers,
I told a friend recently in a mix CD tracklisting that accompanied the mixes I made for her that one of the songs, Aphex Twin's "Xtal", made me remember a certain time in my life, a time I couldn't describe in words, but I would give her the song and explain later. I suppose in essence, that's what this entry is about- trying to get you to gain a feeling for my life in the past six or seven months. Oh, we all know there will be lame metaphors, references to hip-hop lyric, and l will end up sounding like i'm trying too hard to be profund/witty/douchy/ambivalent. But hey, I'm in, and if you're reading this, you are most likely in too, at least for the time being.
To begin with, this summer was amazing on so many levels. For about half of the summer, I was in D.C., working as an orientation leader. It was a great job, that helped build my confidence and made me close to my coworkers. The OL staff, composed of undergrads, really bonded, and I think that was more extraordinary than having students listen to me, meeting tons of faculty members, or getting paid $7.50 an hour. I truly loved spending time with them and getting to know these eighteen or so dudes and dudettes, who came from much less homogenous backgrounds than a lot of my friends. For awhile it felt that I was the living embodiment of a Katrina and the Waves song, fully feeling as if I was walking on sunshine (whoa-oh). Many people often say that at their finest moment, they felt like they were on top of the world. Well, I didn't. I had arguably a better feeling, a feeling that I was still in the world, not above it, and that's a better thing to have than to be high above this beautiful place. My time at home was also quite the accomplishment. I was able to read a great deal for pleasure, watch films that I had wanted to watch or rewatch for awhile, and write, working on a short story, along with a short film screenplay. I also worked on a rap record, played 21 nearly four times a week, and became somewhat of a Guitar Hero. Spending time with hometown friends and doing things that I only do back home made me grateful for what I have, especially down in Delray. Up here at college again, I seem to miss my friends from home much more this year. It's hard to explain, but just know that some of you truly mean the world to me, even if this message doesn't get to you, for whatever reason. My creative nonfiction piece for my Creative Writing class was about my experiences at home this summer, and it felt really good to put my thoughts down on paper. I don't how many more summers we'll have together, but at least I'll always have this summer, even it's only in nostalgia.
Moving on, my return to academia has, so far, been an overall success. My classes all provoke my interest, and maybe it has something to do with them all beginning after 11 a.m., but I think it's just great subject matter. I have a Visual Literacy class that works as a basic overview of the visual arts, such as photography, web design, and film and video. I also am taking basic photography, which is very time-consuming, and yet also very rewarding so far. I seem to find a lot of peace in my long affairs with the darkroom, and to see a completed work of art of mine, no matter the quality, is a feeling not paralleled very often. I'm enrolled in "Hollywood in the 1970s", which is an absolute stunner of a class. It's a delight, discussing great pieces of cinema with an intelligent class and a wonderful professor, leaving each class with a better understanding of why I want to do what I want to do. I'm in a Intro Creative Writing class, which may be my favorite part of my schedule, mostly because I get to write a lot. Writing almost every day is such a cathartic release for me, and I have worked on almost ten short pieces of creative nonfiction in the past month and a half. I seem to be having a love affair with words, as lame as it sounds, but fuck man, I really enjoy creative writing, as my eloquency probably illustrates. Finally, I'm taking Great Experiments in Biology, which is by far the black sheep of my schedule, but I have to say, even a fair amount of the class interests me, particularly genetics. Having a roommate who is Pre-Med and really loves science helps me appreciate the astonishing nature of science. I do seem to be quite busy this semester, much more so than last year. Between classes, working on The Eagle, our student newspaper, and my own intramural indoor soccer team, I'm working pretty hard, but I know I can do more without totally breaking my back, and that's pretty ace to know.
I have begun pre-production work on my TV show for the college television station, tentatively titled "Makeout Party with Drew Rosensweig." It's rather interesting, time-consuming, and somewhat frustrating, but I really feel like this is something I want to do in my life. The show is a late-night talk show, blending elements of a sitcom and improv. Some would call it a sitprov. I would prefer if they didn't. Sometimes you have to go out on a limb, and while this isn't the mightiest of oak branches, it's still something new for me to do and work on. As host/writer/director, it's going to be a pretty fair amount of work. But I have some amazing help from friends, and I really think the world needs Drew Rosensweig playing a douchebag talk show host. Because, you see, I'm not usually a talk show host, at least in this life.
In other Drew-media news, my radio show is five alive again, heard only on Wvau.org, Sunday nights from midnight to 2 a.m. I have grown accustomed to the late time slot, as my brother now can listen to the show on the West Coast, and my mood is somewhat different late at night/early in the morning. I think there may be forays into 70s German prog-metal and twenty-minute long ambient techno sets, but don't worry- there's enough New Edition to still go around. It's also about the only time I ever sign onto my screen name, so it's prime time to converse via the World Wide Web and listen to my deeply foppish voice at the same time. Forward, technology!
One of the most amazing discoveries, or perhaps realizations of this year is that I've come to find that the thing that probably most interests me is myself. It sounds narcissistic and egotistic, and you'll probably think it is (though I shouldn't make assumptions about you), but it's true. I'm amazed at what I do, what I say, and everything that drives me. I know I'm a dick, I know I say the wrong things, and I know I wear a lot of my heart on my track jacket's sleeve. But I suppose that's me, and I constantly devote thought to what I am. Most probably don't know this, but I believe in the concept of a soul, and while the scientific community will deny it, it's one of the few things I have faith in, besides that I will always cry at the end of "Au Hasard Balthazar" and boots on a girl will make my stomach feel a little funny. I think I've lived previous lives, and I think that I'm reincarnated to become a more complete and better spirit. Whether I do the "right thing" or the "wrong thing", I really like to gain from my experiences, and wonder why I do what I do. As Wings of Desire asks, why am I me and not you? It sounds like philosophical bullshit, but as my film professor said when a student asked why we even bothered asking questions about a film's meaning, if we don't bother, we might as well go home. I think I just want to understand myself, but I suppose it's like trying to understand "Tangled Up in Blue": you could spend a whole lifetime, or perhaps a few lifetimes, and you could never fully grasp it.
Excuse me for perhaps being trite, but I was driving in my pops' car the last week of summer and listening to General Public's "Tenderness" (which you may recognize from the "Weird Science" soundtrack, and I stopped at a light on Federal Highway. All of a sudden, I began to think about this place, my home. Delray, Boynton, Boca, even Hypoluxo, it's really a great place to have been birthed and raised. And it's sad to think that it may all be gone in a decade, if global warming keeps on keepin' on. If it's the truth, an inconvenient one at that, then I will be sad. It's understatement, but it's hard to imagine all of my childhood memories, my former schools, my house and my friend's houses underwater. Will it be like it never happened? They probably won't write in history books about the time we used golf clubs to hit rocks into the Intercoastal, or that amazing game of Loaded Questions we played on the beach, or even about the countless nights I've spent at the Garbarino residence. I know that they will reside in my memories and others memories, and I don't know how it's any different than any other case of not wanting to forget the past, but sometimes it really gets me down.
But there's so much to do, and so much to look forward to, besides a new day. This Thanksgiving break, I'm trekking to New Hampshire to stay with my friend in Exeter. Most excitedly, they have a dog named Bailey, and I intend to cuddle with that pooch as much as possible. Also, there may be some sledding, an act that has always seemed so exotic and rapturous to me, mostly because of "Calvin and Hobbes." I am almost definitely going to study abroad in Prague next fall, studying at, honest to Sam Cooke, a bona fide film school. What an experience it hopefully will be. I also may do a summer-long internship program in Hollywood the summer after my junior year, giving me a chance to do chimney sweep-esque work on a film set and indulge in the L.A. life, seeing if it truly is the right fit for me after college. If that plan falls through, then I may just hike the Appalachian Trail, from Maine to West Virginia, with some of my friends the whole summer. It's would be really hard to pass up an experience like that. And then, after college, to perhaps begin work on my own feature-length film- goodness, the places I'll go. But to echo what my good friend Jeff said in a recent Livejournal post, that's all in the future, way ahead in the future, so I must get back to just appreciating tomorrow. And when tomorrow becomes today, then I'll look forward to the next tomorrow, that will soon turn into another today, and eventually, become a yesterday.
To be honest, I don't really know where I'm going, or how far I'm going, but at least I'm going. I just sit here looking at my hands type, glancing at the words and ideas I'm producing, and I smile, as if I were reading a "Cathy" comic strip (Aaack!) There's so much I love in this world, and it's almost horrible that I can't relate it fully to you in this entry. But maybe that's the way it should be, because it just wouldn't be right if we all knew what made each other tick. I guess it doesn't really matter if I'm happy or sad; I'm living this life, and there's not much more I could ask for.
Love,
Drew R. |
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[Feb. 24th, 2006|02:38 am] |
I won't make this entry too long. Lord knows, not every entry must look like the working manuscript to Ulysses (in length only. Joyce, as well as King Kong, ain't got shit on me.)
Maybe I am writing because I now seem to always go to bed at 4 or later, which affects me quite adversely, considering that I have 8:30 classes 4 days a week, including tomorrow. Or perhaps I am really going for the gusto and trying to update more than once a semester. Besides, I love writing to you, the reader, and letting you know all the wonderful things happening in my life.
My scholarly endeavors are still endearing to me, with classes that are write the book on fun! I have American Society on Stage and Screen, which is a very interesting class that is a great introduction to American theater, as well as a breeding ground for discussion on, well, society. Evolution of Jazz and Blues is much more engrossing than I ever thought it would be, and my Roots of Racism class has far surpassed my expectations for the class. Writing for Mass Communications has probably my best professor, is interactive, and allows me to do some straight up journalism, something that still holds a place in my heart, even if I switched majors. Also, I get to bro down with two of my best buds Monday and Thursday mornings at 8:30.And Microeconomics is, very, very suprisingly, not too bad. Of course, I have four midterms next week, so we'll check up on my position on school in a fortnight.
I have had a chance to play soccer with friends for the past three Fridays. I love soccer. I really did miss the game, and playing an hour long pick-up game with some talented strangers a few weeks ago was the most fun I've had on turf since my JV field hockey days. I love soccer.
Tomorrow night, I plan on performing, as per usual, at Open Mic Night. This biweekly event has become a cherished part of my American experience. There are ruminations that I, along with my friend Samya singing her little lungs out, and my friend Joe beatboxing his brains out, will be rapping Kanye's "Heard Em Say." While this may not stand the test of Open mic time, or compare with my past selections such as "Bombs Over Baghdad" or Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Goin Down," this should make for a beautiful act.
On a sensual note, my radio show has finally hit it's magnificent stride. I really feel like my playlists have as become as diverse as possible while not feeling too strained, and more and more people (mostly frien ds who I ask) seem to be listening. My Valentine's Day show brought an honest joy to my heart, spinning two hours of love songs and dedicating Smokey Robinson and The Miracles jams to my parents. If you haven't checked it out yet, go to WVAU.org and click "listen live", every Tuesday from 6-8 p.m.
Being here at college, I really have just begun to question so many aspects of my life and society, and this is a spectacular thing. I have given much thought to where I stand politically, what I think about race and gender (are they social constructs? Can they be defeated? Will Andy ever stop talking about this? LOLZ), and what I hold as supreme beliefs that are intricate to my individuality. Don't get me wrong, I still spend a lot of time thinking about scoring sick goals and ramrodding Scarlett Johansson, but through discussions with peers and professors, I have just opened my mind up to so many new queries.
Abby, Sara, and Whitney visited me almost a month ago, and I had a ball with them. Scrapping, yelling, and clubbing, I can honestly say those ladies made my National Conference on Organized Resistance weekend. I love when friends come to visit. Speaking of, if you are reading this, come to DC. We'll go hunting with Cheney and try to break Borf out of jail. It'll be a blast.
Yes Arianne, I am saving up money to come to Boston after spring break. While we're on the topic of spring break, which for me is March 10th-19th, I am excited to come home, and I'm bringing a compatriot. We plan to rock Miami, the Everglades, Rod Stewart's home, possibly Disney, possibly Busch Gardens, and obviously beach. Let's show my friend Florida's finest. Fuck, let's face it, I'll probably just be at the Garbarino residence every night.
Anyways, I hope everyone out there is doing well. Since I haven't posted it yet, here's my mailing address:
Letts Hall#014
4400 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20016
Send me something, please, because I am sure getting sick of opening my mailbox and finding my roommate's fucking Golf World magazine.
Take care everyone, stay strapped, and holla at cha boy, if you ever get a chance.
Love,
Drew R. |
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[Jan. 13th, 2006|03:35 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Futureheads (As remixed by Max Tundra) | ] |
Hello,
I will save the introduction that involves me apologizing for not updating his livejournal and keeping all the people who care about what I am feeling (over/under: 2) from knowing what is going on in my life. I don't know why I was struck with inspiration at this early, early point in the morning, time that over the past three weeks has been spent watching "The Adventures of Pete and Pete" on DVD or playing Fifa 2006 on my preowned Gamecube (I fancy Blackburn, for all you FA Premier fans.) But I suppose that this inspiration is what I thrive on, not only as a writer, but as an avid fan of life. (Insipidly pretentious much, Drew?)
Anyways, I won't pretend to pool my thoughts in a respectable and precise manner, nor will I stoop to formulating my experiences in list form, as I have in the past. And sorry to all those fans of my hot bod and my hot friends, but no photos this time (you can still comment in bold stating "LJ CUT PLZ!111", if it makes you feel any better.) No, I think I am just going to throw out some things that I have been thinking about, along with anything that pops into my mind at this otherworldly time of the hour.
Frankly, I adore college. My first semester was better than I think I could have ever expected. From the beginning, I struck upon a friends group that rivaled my amazing friends that I have here in South Florida. The birthday party I had the second week of school may still be one of my favorite memories of the past year. To have so many great people with me already, in a new, foreign place, made my heart melt, much like the Nazis' faces at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark." My experiences over the next four months were a treasure trove of exalted excellency. House parties at Porter street, excursions to the dog park to doob, 80s dance night at the Black Cat, Trapped in the Closet viewings- name it; I probably did it. Well, maybe not that far, but I have had some wonderful times. Even just going to dinner every night, from big to small group, well, it always made for at least some entertainment in the day, even if it interrupted my late afternoon nap.
Besides the friends aspect, I didn't do too shabby in other facets of the collegiate life. I did very well, at least for my standards, in my classes, and these courses were for the most part, great. My film class was my favorite, and very much affirmed my decision to pursue film as a career instead of journalism. My teacher, I think, seemed to really like me, and my two best papers that I wrote this year were for that class. My paper arguing Spike Lee's advocation of self-segregation by the black community in Do The Right Thing was probably the most thought-provoking thing I have written academically so far in my life. My Eastern religion class was very interesting, and while it perhaps didn't lead to my spiritual awakening, it made me realize that many of the things I already believe seem to be parts, major to minor, of various religions, from Hinduism to Daoism to Buddhism. My stats class proved to be, amazingly, a success, at least gradewise, after a last minute cram session. If anything, the class was a great outlet for my nostalgia, as I often thought about past times in the hour alloted to the period. My mass media and Washington D.C. history courses proved to be somewhat frustrating, as there could have been so much more that came about from the classes, but there were a few high points during the semester from each.
I have really gotten into table tennis and football (soccer, swine-o). I play ping pong probably 5 times a week at night, usually with my friend Josh who is on the tennis team. He beat me probably 420 times before I finally topped him the last night I was in D.C. It's quite the enchanting game, you really should give it a try. And ever since I got Fifa for my gamecube, I have become immersed in the world of futbol. I am memorizing the European leagues, and my Sam Cooke, I am am getting quite amped for the World Cup this year. I hope to get an intramural team going next year with some friends.
Of course, there are some days when I just want to stop taking any classes and just focus on film. Part of me wants to jump into filmmaking right now, learn more and more of the basics, pound out a script, and direct my first opus. I know that this is nothing more than pipe dreams (I mean, I'm a barber's son), and I really would like to continue my schooling, which I of course will. But it's sort of weird, this desire to do this with my life, it's the first time I have really known what I want in life, at least occupation-wise. I thought I would just want to be a screenwriter, but I realize I want to direct as well. I would see a great film, such as Umberto D or The Third Man or The 400 Blows, and I am so motivated to get out there and do something about my love for film. I luckily enough already did a film with three of my great friends up here, and it won a small award, but the important thing was how much fun it was, and how good, in my opinion, it turned out, in just three days of production and editing. I am working on a script, based on an article I read in ESPN Magazine one, possibly two years ago, about the shit life a professional bowler lives, with expenses and constant traveling. It isn't just about that of course; it includes some of the stuff I see my mom facing with her siblings dealing with our grandmother's worsening health condition, as well as the loneliness that comes with the road and the will to live when the only thing one has done for the past twenty years isn't going to be enough to put food on the table very soon. It is a tough project, as I am definitely not writing something that, right now, is part of my life, and the main character is twenty years older than me, in a world I am not used to, but it really challenges me. Also, I am in no rush to finish it, so I have a good three years to work on it, and hopefully something will come of it.
Coming back to Florida after being gone for four months was not as weird as I thought it would be. Maybe I feared my family would be different, or my friends would have changed, or Delray would have been invaded by pod people, a la Invasion of the Body Snatchers, but my fears were soon squashed. This is my home, my original state of origin, and it is truly a wonderful place, above all else. My friends are refreshingly great, from Austin singing emo while speeding, to Noah's house being a haven of video games and Petey Plane, to Vinh still being money after all these years, to Keith being still the ox I remember him as. New year's eve was a blast, even if I didn't get nearly drunk enough out of responsibility. Having 12 to 15 of your best friends at your house and having them get rip-roaringly pissered, for the most part, is an experience that I recommend to all of you. Well, maybe not, but I enjoyed it, if only for that night.
There's mu family, who I have learned to appreciate tenfold. I don't know I respect anyone more than my dad, for he truly is made from the finest salt, and there really is nothing more I would ever want from a father. I can talk to him about anything, and he puts up with offensive comment after offensive comment from me, even laughing at the lot of them. He accepts my mix CDs with happiness, endures my constant questions about the past, and loves watching old films with me. Basically, he is legit, is the best sense of the word. My mom and I get into way more quarrels than I get into with my dad, but that's what we are. She has my utmost respect when it comes to how hard she has worked to get to where she is, and her work ethic is something I wish I had a tenth of. I probably get a lot from her, which is why she may annoy me, as she also loves to entertain and be "wacky." But when it comes down to it, she is always, and I mean, always, there for me. Then there's my brother, who really may be the best person I know, and I truly know some of the best people in the world. Over the past five years, we have become so much closer, and I can't really explain it in words, at least through typing, but we just have this amazing bond. All I will say is that watching Pete and Pete with him at 3 am may be some of the most transcendental experiences of my life.
And yet, I am still in a weird place in my life. Since most of my college chums went up to my Florida schools last week, it has been pretty boring here. I miss my friends in D.C. I no longer have just one friends group, but two, living, beautiful ones. There has been some mingling between the two- I mean, Whitney dates Andy, Abby has a kindred spirit in Jeff, and Arianne is in love with Gardner- but they are for the most part, two seperate entities, binded together only by friendship to me. I don't really know how to expound on that.
Looking back on the past brings up some interesting questions. Did I really date two Allisons? Did I actually enjoy Trail of Dead at one point of my life? Did I ever think I would be so happy at a school called American? Of course these things happenend, and gratefully so. Those girlfriends gave me some great times, that Trail of Dead album granted me happiness for a month sophomore year, and deciding nonchalantly to visit a patriotic-sounding school in D.C. the summer after junior year made for the perfect concoction of academia. I guess I never really expected any of this, but Dickens can keep his expectations. I am perfectly content for life, which is really an adorable thing (most of the time). If you do spend an hour reading this, I thank you, and even if we don't talk nearly enough as you and I both know we should, I want you to know I think of you guys. I am happy you have found new boyfriends/girlfriends, or are still with the same wonderful boyfriend/girlfriend. I am excited that you got into a college you wanted to, or are thinking of coming to college in D.C. Even if we didn't cross paths in the past six months, or are in a foreign land, or have moved on from the world of online journals, I hope you are finding what you want in life.
Sincerely,
Drew R. |
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[Sep. 15th, 2005|09:05 pm] |
Howdy,
I bet readers out there have a few questions. Drew, where have you been, baby? Didn't you say we were going to have many updates during summer? What did you think of the O.C. premiere?
Well, to answer those questions: I am in the nation's teet, Washington D.C., I got bored with updating my life this summer, and I gave up The O.C. for lent. I know I sort of seem like the douchecock father in "Angels In The Outfield," trying to come back into your lives as if I never left. Kids, I'm sorry I have neglected you, but you got to understand, I was spending my time this summer playing Scene-It, riding the Carousel of Moskow, and summer flinging. Sometimes, though, one must step off of the sidelines and enter the game, if not for himself, than for his team and fans. Fuck, this analogy is weak. I need to pick it up writing-wise, or this comeback is going to be more underwhelming than "The Godfather III." I suppose I'll forego anymore shoddy attempts at eloquence and cut to the giblets.
I am deeply in love with college. American University is a wonderful place, and living in the nation's capital is pretty darn groovy. The Mall at night is absolutely beatiful, brimming with fresh new makeout spots and statues of dead people. Dupont Circle, besides being gayer than um, the majority of the guys at my school, is a beautiful melting pot of homeless people, makeshift street salsa bands, and trendy wrap restaurants. I am getting much better at using the Metro system, and it takes only 20 minutes to get into downtown D.C., while experiencing the wonderful sight and stench of the commuters of the District. Pretty nifty.
So what about my school? The campus actually is very pretty, and my living arrangements are more than adequate. My classes are pretty interesting, especially my Cinema and Eastern Religion courses, but there is a fair amount of work and reading that I have to do if I want to get those lovely marks that I need. The people here, overall, are so nice and warm (even the Republicans), which is quite refreshing compared to my past schooling experiences. I feel quite content with the fact that less than a month into school I already have a solid group of wonderful friends. I am getting rather politically active, and as Abby would say, I'm becoming a decent radical. Let me make the point that I am not homesick, but more so wish my great friends from home could come and experience the blazing good times I'm having here. What have you missed out on, you may ask?
- I am in Food Not Bombs, where we cook up vegan meals on Sunday afternoons and then let the homeless come chow down on them in the city.
- I am slowly working on writing the nine stories required to be a member of the Eagle newspaper staff. I already did a pretty exquisite review of Kanye's new album (dig the beats, fuck the rhymes, save Cam'ron's verse).
- I checked out a frat party the first week, and besides it being dreadfully overcrowded, boring, and taking 30 minutes to get a beer, it was a balls-out blast.
- I may have a radio show as soon as the end of September. I'll let everyone know so you can hear my charming voice again over the Internet, as well as piles and piles of Brazilian folk and Hungarian funk.
- I have played more than enough Bocci, day and night.
- I have already ripped it up at karoake. Re:
- I'm going to the big anti-war protest on the 24th, and that should be royally awesome.
- I had an amazing birthday celebration that lasted about 5 days, culminating in a formalwear dinner, where we took prom pictures in the quad.
- I have gone to a few upperclassman house parties, which are pretty fun. They even had wine and sangria, and I participated in a real, true to life, scene party.
- I had my first wasted experience, which has been the only shit thing so far here at AU, reminding me why I never wanted to get wasted. Arising from slumber in your own puke, unlike Folger's in your cup, is definitely not the best part of waking up.
- I went to a cool local show at a small radical club, and I brought the mosh.
- I participated in a mock protest and then feigned injury to help these street medics practice their methods on us. Words can't describe how stupendous this was.
- I haven't fucked any drunk girls. Maybe kissed. But it was only a kiss. It was only a kiss. (Ok, I really stretched the truth to have a Killers reference.)
But hey, enough of my yakkin'; whaddaya say? Let's boogie. (Excuse the size of the photos, I don't know/care yet how to edit photos on my new iBook.)
( The District sleeps alone tonight. LOLZ, I quoted Postal Service! )
Anyways, my love is with everyone who reads this, and always feel free to call me or IM me or love me or do whatever you want/need with me.
Love,
Drew R. |
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[Jun. 28th, 2005|12:36 am] |
Herro,
Eschewing the recurring "Drew's excruciating memories that aren't that very interesting" format of entries past, I bring you an entry dedicated to my trip to Japan.
What can I say? Japan was Japamazing! For serious kids, there is not a more beautiful country in the world, or at least I haven't been to it yet(which leaves about 350 countries). There people are so courteous and kind-hearted, compared to America, where we are all mean-spirited prostitutes. And the scenery there is so serene, it warms the heart like "The Fox and The Hound." I'm not a very religious man, but going to many temples and meeting a handful of monks, who seem to earnestly enjoy life to the fullest extend, well, that made for a very spiritual experience. Mountains that rise out of the canvas of the Earth like Queen Latifah's milk bottles rise out of her chest- it's truly an outrageous sight. More fish than "Finding Nemo," more Asians than a Tran family reunion, and more random Engrish words put on a shirt that seemingly make no sense (i.e. "Black Jesus Voice") than anywhere I've ever been.
I still don't understand Pachinko.
I'm an amazing lucky person. My dad, through living there and working closely with the country over the years, had amassed many connections and friends, that we used and met over the trip. Watching my dad in action, fluent in Japanese, makes me want to continue learning Espanol until I am excelente enough to kick it in a Spanish-speaking country. I really want to see more of the world, as well, because of my experiences in a wonderful foreign land. I guess I'll have to wait until I study abroad during college (if I make it to there, Sam Cooke-willing.)
But I'm getting off topic; who wants some pictures? Be warned, I am a writer/drewchebag, not a photographer, so my photos are nowhere near the caliber of some of the people on my friends list. Also, there are a lot of photos here, like over 100, so if you have to get to an orthodontist appointment or are going through labor, I wouldn't advise you to click on this approaching livejournal cut. You don't have to look at the photos, for, like Rush, I will always choose freewill. But I think you'll find some good shots, that rise from the piles of drudge. I don't know, do what ever you may, it's probably more entetaining than any of my other entries that feature only my hacknyed writing. Domo!
( Japancakes )
I hope you enjoy, and I wish you greetings from the East.
Love,
Drew R. |
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[Jun. 6th, 2005|12:15 am] |
For the kids keeping track out there, the next entry in my memories collection was supposed to be freshman year. And perhaps I'll get to that in this entry. But as of this word, I am pretty tired. I've packed up for my trip to Boston which departs tomorrow. My brother graduates college on Thursday, and that's sort of weird. I don't know why, it's inevitable, but maybe now the brother who always still seemed like a kid, well, now he is an adult. Or maybe this is the Adderall talking.
First and foremost, my family reunion was exquisite. I can honestly say I adore everyone who went on the trip. Aside from the last night, when the tarp flew off my tent and all my stuff got soaked, it was a perfect time. Hell, I got a new cell phone out of the whole deal (If you are reading this, call my cell- it's still the same number 715-5740, so I can get your number again.) I will talk about this more in detail at a later point, but just know that I had a wonderful time, and I hope everyone else who went did, as well.
Summer has gone well so far, everything I could have wanted really. Carlo's party was a pretty outrageous time, and we won't go into the details, but I left his house in the morning with a new sense of peace and one of my friend's sisters liking me. Scratch the former actually, keep the latter. It's sad though, because I'm away for basically the next three weeks. I come back from Boston, stay here for two days (hopefully spend one last night with my Czech buddy), and then it's off to Japan. Don't get me wrong, that will be an amazing trip, but I am missing some prime hanging out with my friends down here while gone. I just hope they don't forget about me (Emo moment! Yes!). If you want postcards, please just give me your address, and I will write to you honey.
So anyways, freshman year...yeah. I really can't remember much, probably because it was the shittiest year of high school. It wasn't really that bad, I just didn't do much. My best friends from middle school all went to new schools, and that royally sucked. I truly jumped around friends groups, never really finding a place. I became close friends with Mike P. (re: elementary school entry) again, which entailed hanging out with underclassman jocks sometimes. All of my classes were easy, so I wasn't challenged much. The one outlet I had was band, which really granted me my first friends. Some seniors took me under their wing, which was much appreciated, and I ate lunch in the bandroom everyday. That's what my first semester of freshman year was like.
There are two classes that really stand out in my mind as important to me from that year. There was biology class, with all freshman, and it really was the epitome of worthless. If there ever was a microcosm of what freshman are like, this was it. People were trying to find their place, and Lordy, did they try hard. I often watched the other kids in the class, and it amazed me at how immature we all still were. You know, you come to high school, and it's a big leap. Girls have breasts now, you hear about sex, and girls and guys are now totally into each other, hugging and giving each other backrubs in class. Your teachers don't seem to care what you do, as long as you aren't bothering them. And with this whole experience, one feels as if they are now old and mature. But the truth is, from my vantage point, we were just middle schoolers trying to cope with this new freedom, this new world. Whether talking about how they drank last weekend, or gave head to a senior, or even didn't do their homework because they just didn't care, I heard and saw it all. I suppose we, freshman, were all trying to learn how to walk straight, only most of us had a broken shoe to practice with.
The other important class was geometry. I had a great time in that class, and I couldn't say that about many classes I had that year. Dr. Zacharias is easily one of my favorite teachers I have ever had, and without her, my math grade would have been nowhere near where she made it become. I also met Andrew and Noah in that class, and needless to say, that was a rather important event in my high school life. I thought they were cool, Andrew with his "Somebody Loves Me In New Jersey" t-shirt, and Noah's references to Tale Spin, Even Stevens, and other kid shows that I remembered/still watched. They were really nice to me, and when one of the defining moments of my time at Atlantic was early in the school year, when Andrew said "N*Sync has some phat beats", and I couldn't contain my laughter. And with that, I started talking to these "cool" older guys. Becoming friends with them led me to start eating lunch with them second semester outstide the bandroom. Lunch was very interesting, with that whole Lexie/Ely/Rachel/Teresa crew, along with Jake, Ian, Devin, and Ricky, who used to bring that lunchbox with a radio in it (Who remembers that shit?). I used to think those aforementioned girls were really cool, I remember that, and I don't know, it was my first experiences really with what would become, somewhat, my friends group. Hah, I just remembered how we used to throw everything at that one wall, and then moved onto the fan by the bandroom. I was there when it met it's untimely demise at the hands of a bag of ice thrown by O'Brien. Fucking amazing. I think the most important(excuse all the hyperbole) moment of that year was when one of the band seniors saw me hanging out with those kids at lunch, and told me that they were "hooligans." He said don't hang out with them, and I just ignored him and went to eat lunch with them, forever choosing the right path, eschewing the path to the dark side and band nerdism.
But I can't wrap up freshman year without mentioning the antics that occured in band that year. From Mr. Oser being a pedophile to Mr. Saint yelling at me in front of the whole band, it was a crazy entrance to a (once) respected organization. I truly was there for the spiral and then collapse of a once proud band. The two months when we didn't have a director in band class were some great times. Drum closet with Noah and Dan Dumont- I think only Noah can appreciate that. The time in the uniform room where we set a lot of shit on fire, including the shoes on Ben's feet- yeah, that was amazing. And can I just announce that the best line of that year, maybe of my life, belongs to Benjamin Garbarino: "Who stole my fucking Boston Creme?"
I do have a few sweet memories of the year, but they were mostly from the eyes of an adoring freshman tag-along. I'm glad everything happened that did that year, because it made me who I am. Girls were there, but I was enthralled with any yet. I think I had a crush on Teresa the first month of band, just because I thought she was funny, and I thought Michelle was cute as well first semester, but nothing more than slight crushes on girls. To recap, I met some of my future good friends, but wasn't really good friends with them yet. I started noticing girls more and more, but not full-on horny like the future me. Heh. I am a loser. And I was on my way to becoming who I am today, but I was still ripening up, or something like that (this is why I won a Pathfinder).
Coming Attractions: The all important sophomore year of Drew R.
Drew R. |
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[May. 28th, 2005|12:56 am] |
So who's ready for round 2 of Drew's Nostalgia? I swear, this is becoming like R. kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" song novellas he's putting out. Which is awesome, because I heard part 2 recently, and I adored it. But anyways, it's tough to discuss the awkward years, what many call middle school, which occured at Carver Middle for moi.
I guess the most defining precursor to entering 6th grade was the fact that I got fat over the summer before it began. I guess it just happens, consumed with video games and TV, instead of exercise regularly during the summer. As well, my best friends from Spady weren't in any of my classes, so it looked bleak. But being the personable guy I am, it didn't take me a long time to gain a few friends. To tell the truth, I don't remember much about 6th grade. I was a class clown, which I guess helped get my name known, but also made me seem to be a dumbass. I don't know, nothing really important happened in 1998-1999. I mean, I laid the basis for some of my best friends for the next few years, and girls became a turn-on again. But it wasn't a set friends group yet, and the girl who turned me on the most was Buffy Summers. I should give a nod to Buffy The Vampire Slayer, as it, along with wrestling and Kevin Smith, was one of the three most important facets of the entertainment world for me during middle school. In it's prime, which was basically while I was at Carver, it was easily one of the best shows on TV, and it is a true symbol of those years for me. I think the best memory I have of the grade was the band trip to Busch Gardens at the end of the year. I had a great time, roaming around the park with Holden Andrews, Erin Donnelly, and Nicole Pettigrew. It was weird, but for just that one day, we acted like best friends, even though we weren't at all. We had this one constant joke that we kept repeating the whole day, and I can't recall it now, but needless to say, as dumb as it was, we laughed our asses off at it. Considering I was scared of roller coasters, I'm amazed the trip went as well as it did. I remember sharing a blanket with Erin on the ride back, talking, and then inevitably snoozing. Even though we were just friends, I think that was the closest I had ever come to a girl at that point, besides my random trists with girls in 4th grade. So yeah, that's 6th grade for you.
I came to my first class in 7th grade with the smiling faces of two of my best friends from the past year, Justin Schaffer and Kevin Varnell. From the start, it was noticeable that a clique was forming. Those two, plus my good friend David Usuga, were inseperable. And what was our common bond, you ask? Well, good readers, it was wrestling. The WWF, to be exact. We were enamored with it. We had a lot of knowledge on it, and we used to have matches (all of which I lost) at each other's houses. Lunch was always spent talking about wrestling or some other inconsequential things, but it was great. What else happened? Jeez, it's hard to pinpoint singular events. I remember loving english class when we had journal entries, because I used to make everyone laugh with my entries. That actually may have been the first seed in my transition from wanting to become a lawyer or doctor because my parents wanted me to into wanting to become a creative writer. Early that year, I also saw Mallrats, and let's just say it was a life-changing experience. I showed Mallrats to my three close buddies, who loved it. We quoted it all the time, and as most of you readers don't know, I fell in love with Kevin Smith films. I saw all of them, and memorized every fact about the View Askewniverse. Looking back, it's clear that the reason that Kevin Smith films can be cherished by a 7th-grader is the fact that most of the humor is that juvenile. Don't get me wrong, there are some great moments in a few of his films, but it's almost sad that I haven't really watched any of them in the past 3 years. But he deserves a lot of credit for making me want to become a screenwriter, which I still have delusions of grandeur about. And the Mallrats DVD commentary is truly one of the funniest things put to tape.
8th grade, perhaps, was my best year of school. It's at least in the top-3. Familiarity, that's the reason. By then, I knew almost everyone in my classes, and my friends group was defined. It's also the year girls came into play. I developed my first real crush, this girl Jenna. She was in the Pre-IB classes, or MYP, or whatever they call them. The funny thing is, I began liking her because I thought she liked me, because I caught a lot of glances from her. I don't know why I thought that, since I was fat, but I did. Anyways, looking back, I am amazed at the whole situation. She was very Boca Jewish American Princess (I don't use JAP, because it's like using KIKE for Korean Immigrant Kiwi Eaters.) I started talking to her online, actually a great deal, even though I didn't know her. And then she left our school, and I continued talking to her online, but I never asked her out. I know, looking back, I should have at least tried, but I guess it's good I didn't, because it helped me realize that if there's a girl who is worth it, you should ask her out. Anyways, besides the girl issue, I felt so in tune with myself during 8th grade, and it was the last time I had a really tight-knit small clique in Kevin, David, and Justin. We had our own website, where I had a monthly or so column. It's pretty bad to look at, but an award-winning (I realize this reeks of arrogance, but it's true) columnist has to start somewhere, and the beginning isn't too pretty. However, if you care for a peek of shittiness, go to theloveshack.20m.com. It really is a snapshot of time, if that is anything more than a pompous, cliched statement. And best of all of 8th grade, we had our own stunt group, a la Jackass, appropriately titled Bohemian Bullocks (I randomly chose words from a dictionary, and I guess my dictionary only had a B section.) Justin was a pretty savvy stuntman, but his stunts mostly consisted of jumping off of playground equipment and the top of the racquetball court at Sun Valley. The original, and pehaps the best, tape of this included a young man named Ryan Nagel- but more on him later.
To spit the truth, I guess in essence, I only know two people who were good friends with me in middle school through now. One is Justin Schaffer, and the other is Ryan Nagel. Justin, along with Mike P., is probably my best friend in my life. He was my first friend in middle school, and he was always the closest to me in our little clique. We never have had a fight, besides when he dropped my column from our website to piss me off. In fact, no animosity ever came between us, besides when he dated a few girls who sucked. I have a firm belief that you can tell your best friends but how easy their company is. And in reality, whenever the time or place, we always could get together and act like no time had passed. He's a great person, we have similar sense of humors, and I can't really think of one bad thing to say about him. Even though he went to Boynton, we have tried hard to stay in touch, and when we didn't drive, it was tougher. But since we started driving, we started hanging out a lot. In fact, this past semester is the most I have hung out with him since middle school. We really are close again, and our friendship has matured over the years, but we still have as much fun, if not more, as we did back at Carver. In short, he's on the shortlist of people who really, really matter to me.
Ryan Nagel was not part of that four-person clique I have mentioned, but he was about as close as one could come. I think the main barrier for him was the fact that, for some reason, David didn't like him, and thus, he didn't have the full blessing of our clique. He was one of the few kids who made me laugh a lot back then, and we had a lot of good times, working on projects and other things. We were the two main funnymen in our classes, the ones with more mature humor. He always came off more intelligent than most I had encountered at Carver, and I respected that. When he came to Atlantic in 10th grade, I was one of the few people who knew, and we became closer friends than we were in middle school. I saw him gain more and more friends that year, and as I've said before in a past journal, when he told me he didn't hate his life anymore because he had met so many great people sophomore year, it was one of the best things I had heard in awhile. It's sad to think how much his parents suck and act like assholes to him, as well as the fact that he didn't walk across the stage with us. I want to help the guy, but I have no way to get in touch with him, and just want to see that smiling face again. All those "Hey pretty girl" or "Drewcifix cutie, what's shakin" that he uttered were so genuine and full of love, as well as his Camp Shalom shirts and general demeanor. I just hope he knows there are a lot of people who care about him and want to help him out of a jam. It's crazy to think of the progression from 6th grade to high school graduate that I have seen in him, my buddy Ryan Bagel Nagelpuss.
I used to sort of not look back on middle school as fondly, because I was fat, and there were a lot of mean-spirited people. But fuck it, who cares if I was fat and didn't date anyone, I, for the most part, had a great time. Kevin V. was one of the craziest people I ever met, as well as one of the few in the Night Ranger cult. He was very smart, if not the most diligent student. He had ADD, and usually never took his medicine, but it helped engrain his soul in my mind. I would love to talk with him again, because we haven't spoken in like 3 years, as he moved south and went to Ely, last time I heard. David was so goofy, and yet was such a player, it always amazed me. He always had some funny new inside joke or catchphrase. We stayed in touch for awhile after he went to Boynton High, but sadly, we haven't talked in like a year. I still talk online to Curtis Daniels, the token black guy in our class, and he hasn't changed much. He is an interesting dude, as he goes to private school up in Maine, but he definitely has matured enormously, and I dig that. Lindsay Harris was probably one of a few girls who I could talk to and have a good conversation with back then. We made fun of each other, as I did with almost all the girls in my classes, but we had a good time with it, and she was a cool girl. There are others, but the point is that my time at Carver was a very good one. It was definitely the awkward transitional period of my life, but it's the awkward transitional period of everyone's life, so it all works out in the end. At least I didn't shoot a teacher.
Oh goodness, high school is coming up kids!
Until next time,
Drew R. |
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[May. 20th, 2005|02:43 am] |
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I really am bad at keeping promises. If you are an avid reader of one of USA Today's "Only Blogs Worth Reading Ever", you would remember that I promised almost daily updates this month. Well, I have thought about updating everyday, but I guess I had better things to do. Boggles.
But for personal catharsis and public enjoyment, I wanted to record my thoughts on my school life, up to the completion of my secondary education. I wanted to talk about some of the many people I've encountered and have affected me in some way. Most of all, I wanted you to want me. But as it turns out, I need you, the reader, to need me. And Sam Cooke almighty, I love you to love me.
What the fuck is this entry? Seriously, why do all my stream of consciousness pieces end up as Cheap Trick quotations? I guess I should just surrender surrender. Shit, I did it again. Okay, as I was saying before this Rick Nielsen-induced tangent, I would like to just put my thoughts on the majority of my life into, or onto, or whatever, my livejournal. You obviously don't have to read these entries, but I guess you are faced with that choice every second of every minute of every millenia you are here on this planet. I also would like most of my upcoming entries to be off the top of my head, so bear with the 3rd-grade vernacular and J.V. diction.
So as many of you recall, most of us begin proper schooling in kindergarden at age 5. But I had my first day of school at S.D. Spady Elementary School at the age of 2. My parents sensed I was a smart young duder, a reputation I would slowly lose over the course of the next 15 years. Yes, naptime was great, and I always hated having my slumber snapped by the class record player spinning the first notes of "He's Got The Whole World (In His Hands)." However, I really loved learning. It's a beautiful thing actually, being five years old and conquering your first books and arithmetic. One begins to feel as if the whole world was in their hands, not someone else's. Actually, back then I probably just felt disgust towards girls and love towards Magellan from "Eureka's Castle."
I must proclaim to be a proponent of the Montessori method of education that Spady uses. It trained me how to work alone and at my own pace, and I really felt it help me accelerate my early learning. Aside from that little informercial I just wrote, I also was quite the ladies man in my early years. With my boyish cutes, let's just say I was getting more ass than three rolls of toilet paper. I had my first girlfriend at age 5, an African-American beauty named Lorena, and our relationship consisted of going to a nook in the back of the class and kissing basically everyday for awhile. What can I say, she dug my Troll doll.
As more and more grade years went by, I always was the "smart kid" in my class, which I guess was flattering but it all came pretty easy to me (and I'm really not trying to sound pretentious, it's just the truth.)Even at any early age, I was very social and was one of the jokesters in classes. I don't what it was, perhaps having an older brother and watching a lot of adult TV (namely In Living Color), but I had a pretty developed humor even at an early age. I had a surfer cut throughout 1st-5th grade and I wore Mossimo, Stussy, Yaga, and other fake Island clothing marketed for rich Caucasians. I was never the most athletic kid, but I wasn't too shabby in some sports. I loved baseball, even though I sucked after Coach Pitch. It's so weird that I played little league with almost all of Atlantic's team (and they all struck me out/beaned me in the head). But when it came to Football, or Soccer if that's the wavelength you are on, I was a baller. My cousin who played professionally, as well as my two uncles who loved the sport, instilled a love of the sport in me. I wasn't blessed with all the athleticism as some kids were, but I always prided myself on being the most knowledgeable on the field. PLEASE ALLOW ME TWO OR THREE LINES OF SELF-ADORING NOSTALGIA. I had amazing field vision, and I was selfless on the field, unlike most kids, looking to pass instead of hog the ball. And in goal, let's just say I ruled, for a period of time back in the day. Then I got fat. I stopped playing in 8th grade I believe, and it truly is one of the things I most genuinely miss from my childhood.
Looking back on my friends, it definitely changed over the years. I hung out with a lot of kids who were weird I suppose in 1st-3rd grade. We always played the guessing game at lunch, where we tried to guess a video game or movie or Michael Jackson song from clues said by one of us. We were lame, but we loved it. But the place where I had friends for a long time was the after-care program that I was in throughout. I played basketball with Dejuan Guillory a lot, and he still used to say hi to me at Atlantic, even though he was a cool football player, just because he must have liked me back then. Billy Gustafson was one of my good friends, and roommates on the Safety Patrol trip. He is easily one of the nicest kids I have ever known, and such a polar opposite than Ricky. I really wish we had stayed better friends throughout middle and high school. We still say hello to each other in the halls, and we have luckily enough talked a few times recently at senior events, but he is definitely one of a few kids from Spady who I wish I still was good friends with. Likewise, Robert Scherban, who I think is a ROTC guy at Lake Worth now, was also one of my best friends. He was a great guy, and I wish we has stayed friends, but time and different schools changed that. I still have fond memories of trading baseball cards with him in 5th grade. I saw Kris Stubbs, who is going to Duke on an athletic scholarship, at Pathfinders, and he was still the nice atletic superstar that he was when I knew him. I am really happy for him and the whole Duke acceptance, he seems like a guy with his head on straight. And then for one year, I was friends with Damian Vaudo, who turned me onto ska in 5th grade. Now I hear he is a father and dropped out, which is upsetting, but I guess that's what life held for him.
Now that I think about it, there are only two people I was friends with in elementary school that I still am friends with nowadays. One of them is Kiera Jefferson, who always was one of my best girl friends in elementary, in part to our brothers being best friends with each other when they were in middle school. She always was a sweet girl who had a great personality, and nothing has changed. It was a pleasure to have AP English with her this year, as we were the class clowns I guess. She is one of the few people who can truly make me laugh a lot, because she is so outrageous. Our families have been friends for awhile, and I doubt I'll ever not welcome her company, because she also is surprisingly mature, in my analysis.
Then there is my main bro, my first best friend, Mike Plotkowski. Seriously, I was talking to him recently, and we both thought it was amazing that we have been great friends since we were like 2. He was my one constant in elementary. We got sea lice together when we were like four years old. We played Power Rangers, Darkwing Duck, and plenty of other made-up games in after-care for 8 years. We were into Magic cards for a little, and we brought out big books of baseball cards to school everyday to trade. We were inseperable, even though we never were in the same class after kindergarden. He was the superstar athlete, but he always made sure I was picked for his team right after he was picked first in kickball. Middle school came, and we didn't see each other but on a blue moon, yet we still invited each other to our respective birthday parties. Then high school was here, and we were in each other's classes for the first time forever, and we were great friends again. We have been on and off with our level of friendship each year in high school, but we really became good friends this year again in Economics class. Sure, we are in different friends groups, as he is a jock and isn't the most academically-inclined kid ever, and we don't hang out much out of school. But I always have his back, and what makes me feel good is the fact that I know he still has mine. The truth is, Mike is one of the best friends I have had in my life, and I will try my best to keep in touch with him throughout life.
So, in summary, I liked elementary a lot. I played dodgeball, I had two Tamagotchis, and I used to run away from girls. I suppose not much has changed in retrospect. Anyways, yes, I know that is a bear to read, but if you read it, then you are a little closer to knowing what makes Drew tick. Until next time...
Drew R. |
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[May. 2nd, 2005|01:48 am] |
Hola!
Back again, it's the ambivalent musings of Drew Richard Rosensomethingjewish. Who wants to hear about my life? Okay good!
If you don't know yet, I will be attending American University in Washington D.C. next fall. I visited both BU and American in the middle of May, and I really dug both. In the end, I liked BU slightly more, but not almost $20,000 a year more, if you get my drift. College is what you make of it, and at American, I don't think I will have to try very hard to have a great time. I have already met a few really good kids who will be in the class of '09 next year, so I am already excited. There are only two problems with the school, at least to me. First of all, the name kind of sucks. Why couldn't it be like, Burt Reynolds University? And also, this sounds pretty dumb, but if any terrorist group gets its hands on a nuclear missile, it's probably heading straight for D.C. And to tell the truth, I really would not liked to get nuked while at college.
So with the college situation wrapped up like the end of a Scooby Doo episode, I guess other parts of my life should be addressed. I have never danced so much in one month than I did in April. I went to a dance party with my brother and his friends up at Harvard. In my buzzed nature, I was a friggin dancing machine. Then prom came about and I stole the dancefloor with my grooves. Finally, I learned how to merengue and salsa at my friend Queanh's birthday party last night. I'm like a modern Fred Astaire. Or at least Michelle Pfeiffer in Grease 2. Prom was a good time, overall better than last year. The sole bad part of the night was Allison not being there, especially seeing all the hook-ups at Carlo's party. But it was easier just being with some of my best friends, dancing, partying, watching Moskow have 23 shots ("Let's do a double"). I'd be up for it again.
Instead of doing any schoolwork, I have become a Freaks and Geeks addict. I have the DVD boxset, and I watched every episode, some twice, in the past two weeks. I love that show. Honestly, I almost cried when I watched the final episode, because it is a downright shame, in the lesser scheme of things, that a show that good would be canceled after only 18 episodes. If I ever write for TV, I would sell my soul to create a show like Freaks and Geeks. "If I were Bionic Woman, what would I wear?"
Shameless self-masturbatory section: I recently won two awards at that Palm Beach Post High School Journalism Awards. Needtheless to say, I almost crapped myself. Honestly, I was shocked, and I have tried to supress my happiness about this, but I must say, in this livejournal entry, that I am genuinely stoked about the whole experience. To be recognized for something I love-writing- is about the best thing I can hope for, right next to 5 minutes in a spacious closet with Zooey Deschanel. I'll post a picture of the awards perhaps in the sometime near-future. Then I will have officially achieved complete douchebag status.
It's the last month of high school, and I feel fine. I know I don't update this journal often, but expect big happenings over the course of May, featuring almost (shock!) daily offerings from your favorite writer. It's a wrap-up of my school life up until now, including plenty of memories of elementary, middle, and high school. I also will muse on many of the people I have met over the years, so stay tuned- you just may be in my next entry (unless you're a creepy LJ-stalker.)
As J Rust would say, ciao!
Drew R. |
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[Mar. 29th, 2005|01:18 am] |
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Dear Thoughtful Readers,
I am tired, but I wanted to just jot down a few surprisingly concise thoughts down, instead of the normal non-sequitors that come in abundance normally on this journal. The decision of college is now directly staying me right in the retinas, and I am lucky enough to have a number of rather decent options.
Basically, UCF, SMU, and Emerson have been elimidated. I should have applied to UF as my safety, because at least that is a above average option, especially with Bright Futures, but it doesn't really matter. SMU gave me a spot in their honors program and a little bit of a scholarship, but when it comes down to it, it's a school full of rich Texan douchebags. And that is not my steez. Emerson is just not for me, because I want a broader liberal arts education than just the communications focus it has. I should have applied to Middlebury instead of Emerson, even though I wouldn't have gotten in there.
The only school that rejected me was, not surprisingly, William and Mary. It was my reach, but I should have chosen a better one, looking back. For an out-of-state student, it's like an Ivy League school to get into, and I'm not Ivy material. Also, they didn't offer Journalism or Film as a major, so it may not have been a great fit. I won't really matter I suppose, and I was actually okay with the outcome, because the social life there supposedly sucks as well. And readers, you know how much of a party animal I am. Call Lloyd Banks and get this motherfucker crunk, as the Game would say.
So it comes down to three choices: Boston University, American University, and Goucher College.
BU had been a favorite for a long time, but now I don't know. Two main problems: it is horribly overpriced and it has no campus. $40k a year? Absurd. That's a number that should be saved for the Harvards, Stanfords, Princetons, and Yales(actually, Yale sucks). I thought I would qualify for their $10,000 scholarship, but I guess not. The campus and dorms are actually not a huge problem, because I knew that it was an urban campus that had not the greatest freshman housing. But there are plus sides to the school. I was accepted to their College of Communications, one of their strongest schools, and one of the few that have big-time name recognition nationally. It is regarded as a top-ten school in both journalism and film, so that is of course enticing, and a deep honor to be granted admission to. Also, as I have said before, Boston is just the bees knees.
Then there is American University in D.C. that has risen to the forefront of my college options. I was offered a near 1/3 scholarship, and admitted to their school of communications. Their journalism program is one of the best in the nation, and the chance for internships and studying abroad, two of my main interests, is very high at American. It is a school that is quickly rising in prominence, and it is one of the most diverse campuses, supposedly, in the world. I don't know why, but I dig the fact that there are many countries represented at the school. Also, D.C. offers a good social life, only a 20-minute bus ride away. The only cons are the fact that, from what I recall, the campus is sort of blah, and it may not, overall, have the same name recognition as BU. But at least it has a traditional campus, and the Journalism program is right up there with BU's as one of the best in the country.
Finally, the black beauty (no, not Howard), the dark horse candidate, Goucher. It's only 1200 kids, and there is a real focus on writing. It has a great writing program there, and I have a good chance of getting more personalized attention with the small student to faculty ratio. They gave me a near 1/2 scholarship there, and I think at a small school, I would have a better opportunity to shine. Baltimore isn't too shabby of a city, and it has a beautiful, foresty campus. But it is by far the least regarded school of the three options, and I'm not sure if a degree from Goucher carries anywhere near the weight of one from BU or American. It's not in the elite nor second tier of liberal arts schools, though it was proclaimed to be a "hot" school in the pantheon of liberal arts colleges.
I am trying to visit all three schools again in the next two weeks, and then I will have to make a choice. I never thought it would be this tough of a decision. With BU, I have to decide if it is worth all the money it will cost. If I had received a scholarship to BU, I would likely go there without a doubt. With American, I have to decide if the campus and overall atmosphere is right for me. If I had liked the campus of American more on first impression, then it probably would already have had me accept admission there. And with Goucher, I have to decide if I love the school enough to forego bigger and splashier options. If only I had received a full tuition scholarship at Goucher, it would be a much more viable option.
It's not the time for ifs though, it's the time to decide my future, sort of. If anyone has any opinions on the subject, then they would greatly appreciated.
Huggles,
Drew R. |
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